Rooftop Gourmet

If you were to peek into my fridge, you’d see the typical kitchen staples; milk, eggs, butter, and cheese. Then if you looked on the top shelf, you’d encounter a vast array of tubs and jars filled with not so ordinary ingredients that I impulsively grabbed during trips to the market. You never know what you’re going to find up there. My most recent adventure has been into the world of miso. Miso is amazing and trust me, it’s not like the complimentary, cloudy, dishwater soup that you get at cheap sushi joints, with floating cubes of tofu in it. Miso comes in the form of a thick, flavorful paste used for sauces, stocks, or marinades.

This traditional Japanese seasoning is made by fermenting rice, barley, and soybeans with salt and a special fungus called kojikin. The fermenting process, and the decisions made during this process are very similar to wine making. Hundreds of contributing factors create different tastes and aromas to the final product. I chose a red miso that has been aged for one year in four ton wood vats. The result is an earthier taste with some dried fruit aromas. I dissolved a few tablespoons of the red miso paste into  some white wine and sugar to create my marinade that had a texture of cake batter (you don’t need any salt because the miso paste itself is relatively salty).

Hake is a fish that is very similar to Cod and is native of Ireland. Some say that it followed the immigrants over and is now most abundant off the coasts of Cape Cod. The texture is almost identical but it has a slightly sweeter taste to the flesh.

This fish was the perfect choice to suck up all of the flavors in the marinade in roughly forty-five minutes. While the Hake was enjoying its Miso spa treatment, I started making my extremely phallic, cucumber-horseradish sauce. Fresh horseradish is one of my favorite roots because of its sweet taste that lures you in before it tomahawks you with nasal cleansing heat. Its similar to wasabi, in that it can be eaten raw or more typically grated into a paste (or into an awesome Bloody Mary).

 I peeled and seeded the cucumbers before I tossed them into a food processor with organic Greek yogurt, salt, pepper, and tons of lemon zest. The yogurt loses some of its thickness but turns a beautiful pastel green color.

 I then grated in some of the fresh horseradish, giving it some fire which is quickly cooled down by the cucumber-beautifully balanced. Marinaded meat and fish make it hard to obtain a nice sear, so I decided to broil the fish with some black sesame seeds on top. The extra sugar in the marinade created a sticky crust on the fish, protecting the inside from drying out. I had a dream the other night about this cold salad that I wanted to create, and this was my chance to test it out.

 I thinly diced up three bunches of broccolini (the broccoli with thelong stems resembling asparagus, and the tiny florets) and tossed them in a bowl with some sliced, red jalapeno for some heat. I dressed the raw salad with rice wine vinegar, sesame oil, sesame seeds, and a splash of soy and lemon juice. The combination of flavors were intense… the heat from the jalapeno, and the nutty flavors in the oil and seeds, paired nicely with the bitter, raw broccoli.

 I had plenty leftover to which I added 2 cans of tuna for tuna sandwiches the next day (the sandwich was gold medal worthy, if sandwich making was an Olympic sport). When the fish was ready, I plated it with the cold sauce and cold salad which was a nice contrast in temperature.

 I chose an interesting wine to serve with this meal, with a back label that resembles the top shelf of my refrigerator. The 2008 Clayhouse Adobe White is a blend of seven different grapes; 22% Viognier, 18% Sauvignon Blanc, 17% Grenache Blanc, 16% Roussanne, 6% Chardonnay, and 5% Chenin Blanc. That only equals 84% you say…. what is the last 16% of juice in this hodge podge bottle? A grape that is named after Super Mario’s crush. 16% of Princess is the final blending grape that technically is not allowed to be listed on the label because it is not yet an approved varietal by the federal government.

This wine has so much going on, from orange blossom aromas to pumpkin pie spice in the finish. It’s medium in body and has a beautiful golden color to it. Tons of apple and stone fruit fill your mouth, followed by a creamy finish with a hint of residual sugar. The wine reminded me of the miso paste…. rich and concentrated with boatloads of different layers of flavors.

The red miso gave the fish a unique sweet and earthy flavor without over powering it. The hake was still moist and flaky in the center, but every bite  of the crust added a new sensation with a little Asian flair to it. The chilled sauce was refreshing and kept the meal light and healthy. If miso paste is too adventurous for you, at the very least, try this spicy broccolini tuna salad or the Clayhouse Adobe White… the Princess is worth it.

Braised oxtail is exactly what it sounds like… slow cooked tail meat from a giant ox. Turns out, this tough, gelatinous cut of meat is packed with the most intense beef flavor than any other part of a cow. When it’s slow cooked for hours, the connective tissue and meat breaks down slowly leaving you with fork tender, rich, flavorful beef. Don’t be fooled, this isn’t just a fly swatter, it’s a foodies’ dream.

I braised the oxtail in a reduction of two bottles of red Zinfandel and beef broth. By reducing the wine first, it concentrates the bold fruit flavors as well as burns off the boozy taste. A brunoise of classic mirepoix (carrots, onions, celery) were sweated down and a handful of aromatics were tossed in (thyme, parsley stems, and bay leaves) before I added my secret twist ingredient.

 I love incorporating different ingredients to braises and stews just to give it that underlying aroma or flavor that you can almost put your finger on, but can’t quite figure out what it is.

 One teaspoon of cinnamon and some freshly grated nutmeg did the trick. It didn’t overpower the beef, but contributed to the richness of the sauce, giving it some Moroccan flair.

With the pot of tail in the oven and lots of time to waste, I fooled around with some hors dourve ideas. I roasted some whole garlic cloves with some baby heirloom tomatoes and extra virgin olive oil. Whenever you want to draw serious flavor out of an ingredient… roast it. The skins of the tomatoes pop and then start to wither down into a wrinkly pile of condensed tomato goodness.

 I sliced up some mini baguette into a crostini and spread a healthy dose of tangy goat cheese on the top before smothering it with the roasted tomatoes and sweet garlic cloves. A sprinkle of chunky sea salt and a drizzle of truffle oil made these bite sized snacks unforgettable.

When the oxtail was getting tender, I scraped all of the meat off the bones and discarded them. I poured all of the braising liquid into a fine mesh strainer and returned it to the pot to reduce and concentrate even more beef flavor while I shredded the meat with two forks.

 The rich aromas of meat and sweet spices wafted into my nose and it was tempting to not sneak a few heaping forkfulls of beef before I even boiled the water for the gnocchi.

I bought some golf ball sized potato gnocci at Whole Foods which only needed a few minutes in some boiling water before they were soft and tender. These gnocchi were especially fluffy and not too dense which was nice because I could eat more before entering a food coma.

I tossed the gnocci in with the oxtail ragu and the silky sauce clung to the starchy balls perfectly. I chose to pair this dish with the new vintage of one of my favorite Italian reds. The Umberto Cesari Sangiovese Riserva has been a staple on my table for years.

 This wine is everything a good wine from the Emilia-Romagna region should be; lots of fruit on the nose followed by some spicy cherry fruit, dried herbs and porcini mushroom flavors. It has great acidity and weight which was important for going head to head with the hearty ragu. The rustic and powerful red held its own and was a great match with the dish.

 Most wines from the Emila-Romagna region are bold and robust because the cuisine in that part of the country is pretty hearty. Lots of filled pastas, and heavy ragus come from this region. This classic dish emphasizes the fact that Italians use every single part of the animal and make even the strange parts taste delicious. So next time, you’re on your way to the supermarket, pick up some tail.

With all the hustle and bustle of recently getting engaged, this is the first time my fiance and I had some time to get back into the kitchen. Of course I decided to make something that requires getting our hands dirty and put her in fear of getting her newly adorned bling messy. 

A roulade is French term derived from the phrase “to roll”, and is typically a cut of beef that is rolled around a filling of some sort. Pretty much every cuisine has their version of this classic dish, from the Italian Braciole to the simple Japanese Maki Roll. Siobhan is a pro at rolling and trussing so I put her to work stirring the risotto and getting the butchers twine ready while I pounded the meat.

The thick slab of top round beef looked like a place mat after I was done with it. The pounding not only tenderizes this tougher cut of beef but makes it more accessible to rolling and stuffing. The stuffing consisted of shallots, garlic, spinach, Panko bread crumbs, pine nuts, and shavings of fresh Pecorino Romano cheese.

It’s important to let the stuffing rest and cool before spreading an even layer over the beef (and shave the cheese on after it cools). I think Siobhan was a butcher in a previous life because she trussed the roulade like a champ, slip-knot, after slip-knot, without skipping a beat. It wasn’t until we were cleaning up afterwards that she let me in on her secret; apparently the technique is very similar to a sewing motion.

 Once the beef was secured, we seasoned and seared it in a sizzling hot roasting pan before popping it into a 350 degree oven.

 The risotto was on the stove, getting constant splashes of hot veal stock, sucking it dry, and calling for more liquid in steady intervals. As soon as the first grain of arborio rice started to get al dente, I took the pot off the heat and added a handful of Parmesan cheese, a pinch of saffron, and a _____ of butter.

 The lid goes on, and the risotto can rest on the back of the stove while we waited for the roulade to come to temperature.

I must admit, I have never roasted a radish before but I read about roasted radishes in a book that I’m reading. “Nasty Bits”, is a compilation of short chapters and food related rants by famous chef and author Anthony Bourdain.

He talked about eating roasted radishes in a French bistro with nothing more than a sprinkle of sea salt. Sure enough, the experience was just as he had described it. The pop of the tiny, shriveled orb released juices that tasted like clarified butter and got me drooling all over myself.

When the roulade was medium in temperature, we removed it from the oven and started snipping off the twine while it rested.

 I opened a bottle of the 2007 Porrera Black Slate Priorat because this was their debut vintage to celebrate our debut engagement blog dinner. This wine comes from the Priorat region of Spain, which is considered to be the best of the best for Spanish grape growing regions. It is a blend of Garnacha and Carinena grapes grown in the tiny village of Porrera, a area of Priorat where the winemaker, Joan Sangenius was raised.

As you can tell from the initial quaff and first sip, this isn’t some hot shot dabbling in winemaking and debuting their first wine. This is a serious wine from a man who comes from a family that has been making wine for over 200 years. The inky, jet black color is intriguing and the nose is full of blueberry and spice. Ripe flavors, and sweet, dark berries fill the palate seductively followed by a young, sharp finish.

 This wine is would benefit immensely from five to ten years of cellaring. The rich, full bodied wine had nuances of black licorice that paired nicely with the outer charred crust of the roast and the smooth mouth feel was harmonious with the tender, inner layers of beef. The layers of flavor in the stuffing hit your taste buds, one after another, culminating in a huge bite of creamy, cheesy risotto. The roulade was devoured quickly but there was plenty of extra risotto for us to take to work the next day… that’s just how we roll.

I like to take a certain ingredient and showcase it in different ways depending on the season or mood that I’m in. The other night I wanted to show off the versatility of scallops by making a winter preparation as well as a summer dish. I found these beautiful, fresh sea scallops at my local fish monger that smelled clean and had a pinkish-orange hue to them. Try to avoid buying scallops that are previously frozen because they’ll create all sorts of problems for you if you’re searing them or making ceviche.

I had plenty of time in the kitchen so I concentrated on the tiny details in order to make the presentation look as appealing as possible. You eat with your eyes first and then with your stomach…but the food still has to taste good. I get very annoyed when I’m served a plate in a restaurant where the food is stacked two feet high and has all sorts of bells and whistles on it only to reveal that the actual food taste like garbage.

When it comes down to it though, we are very visual people, and eye catching food is appealing food. Look at the recent popularity of the Food Network and culinary reality shows over the years. People love food, they love looking at food, and they love looking at celebrity chefs that make the food. Food porn has officially swept the nation. I can’t get on an airplane without buying the latest copy of Gourmet, or Bon Appetit because the huge, close up of the sticky short ribs on the cover made my stomach rumble. People even buy cookbooks to look at the pictures with no intention of ever searing a piece of tuna or blanching a vegetable.

Americans know what foie gras and a perfectly poached egg look like but most of them have never tasted it. I admit, I have fallen into the abyss of food porn myself, and I love for my food to look appealing; but my food still tastes great (or else my friends are just being nice).

For my summer preparation, I made a quick ceviche, which is a Peruvian dish that is never actually cooked. There are millions of variations of ceviche but in its simplest state, it is raw seafood that is “cooked”, or marinated in citrus juice. The acid in the citrus changes the enzymes in the protein and gives it the flavor, texture, and consistency of cooked seafood or shellfish….magic! Now depending on where in Latin America you go, there are all sorts of other components of ceviche.

 I chose to stick to the basics, and marinated the scallops (which I sliced thin, so that more surface area would hit the citrus and would be done quicker) in fresh lime juice, with diced jalapenos, fresh cilantro, sliced red onion, salt and pepper.

 This is a classic combination that tastes great because all of the flavors play nicely together. After about 20 minutes in the marinade, you slowly see the transparent scallops firm up and become white. The refreshing pop of the citrus juice wakes you up and the subtle heat stimulates your palate; a perfect snack on a warm summer day (I must have thought I was still in Florida). For my winter preparation, I made a puree of celery root for my seared scallop to rest on. Celery root is the ugly vegetable that you usually walk by and grimace at in the supermarket; it looks like a dirty softball that your dog buried under the shrubs in the backyard three years ago.

Don’t judge a book by its cover. Once all of the skin is peeled off, the white inside has a distinct flavor that is extremely memorable yet subtle. I diced the root up and boiled it in milk until it was soft.

I then transferred everything to the blender and pureed everything until it was silky smooth. After I removed the foot from the scallop (the foot helps the muscle attached itself to the shell and it has to be discarded), I seared it in a screaming hot pan to achieve a beautiful, caramelized crust that protects the delicate center. I plated the seared scallop atop the silky, celery root puree and sprinkled it with some red quinoa. I also garnished the shellfish with a wedge of pink grapefruit to balance out the rich, earthy flavors and to add some acidity to the dish. Because I had two, very different dishes, I needed to choose a versatile wine that had some qualities that would enhance each side of my plate.

I chose the 2007 Bonny Doon Le Cigare Blanc from California. The wine is named after an alien aircraft that looked like a giant white cigar, that was seen flying over France’s Chateneuf du Pape region. Sure enough, the wine is a blend of white grapes from that region of France. A mix of Grenache Blanc, and Roussanne make this interesting white scratch your head. It’s medium bodied and has hints of tropical fruit and banana on the nose. On the palate, it’s slightly creamy until the finish kicks in with bursts of pineapple that seems to linger forever. It was very pleasant with both dishes but I preferred it with the seared scallop. The vibrant, bleach-blonde colored juice in the wine glass was visually appealing and made me want another glass.

I judge a good burger by how many times I have to wipe the juice off of my elbows… among other things. I love experimenting with different ground meats, cheeses, toppings, condiments, and serving vessels. The possibilities are endless when it comes to burger building; which is a science in itself. I love caramelized onions because they show you how an ingredient can become something completely different with just a little heat and patience.

The strong, pungent raw onion releases its natural sugars very slowly and transforms into rich, sweet,  glob of melt-in-your-mouth goodness. Last night I took caramelized onions to a whole new level. Not only did I cook them in rendered bacon fat, I let them overcaramelize  for over an hour in my dutch oven. Once they were dark brown in color I added some red wine, balsamic vinegar, sugar, and black pepper. I let everything slowly reduce for another half hour until what was left in the pot was a sticky, sweet bacon-onion marmalade.

I had to hold my girlfriend back because she was a repeat offender of sneaking spoonfuls when I wasn’t looking. The underlying smoky bacon flavor combined with the sweet onions and tang of the balsamic reduction was just what I was looking for to spread atop my oversized beef patty.

I always choose a ground chuck or a ground beef that has at least 20% fat and season it liberally; in this case, I tossed in some finely minced garlic as well. The next step is the cheese and for me this is a huge decision because I am a cheese fanatic. If I was stranded on a deserted island I’d take a wheel of stinky Linburger over a gallon of water in a heartbeat. Because I spent so long in the kitchen creating this should-be-everyday condiment, I decided to let it shine and keep the cheese in the background.

 I picked a simple grated Gruyere because it’s an excellent melting cheese with tons of flavor. The final step is choosing the ensemble that will adorn and cradle the beef patty. I have always been a huge supporter of the sandwich-sized english muffin, but I came across some Italian ciabatta bread, still warm from the bakery. I buttered and toasted the sponge-like loaf which awaited the arrival of the bloody rare beef, ready to soak up all the flavor.

I topped the finished product with a tiny handful of baby arugula to add some freshness to this handful of heart attack. In order to get my jaws around the first bite, I needed to be wearing a poncho, because the juice ran down my chin and forearms until I didn’t care anymore. As soon as all of the flavors came together in that magical first bite, my physical appearance and hygiene were thrown out the window.

I paired the burgers with Harpoon Brewery’s 100 Barrel Series Island Creek Oyster Stout. I must say, when I heard about this beer, I was extremely skeptical even though I am a huge oyster fan. I love a nice pint of Guinness with some raw oysters more then the next guy, but I never thought I’d ever taste a beer that was brewed with the actual oysters in it!

 The roasted barley and chocolate rye malts give this brew a rich and smoky nose to it with just the slightest hint of brinyness. It has a gentle mouthfeel that isn’t too over bearing and finishes with strong minerality and a lingering flavor of burnt pumpernickel toast. I really enjoyed this pint with the burger because the roasted barley and the smoky-sweet marmalade were a perfect pair. If only my hands weren’t so messy I would have been able to get better grip on the pint glass.